


Pâro

by EndmostGekko (Krivoklatsko)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bad endings, Despair, feel bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 10:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krivoklatsko/pseuds/EndmostGekko
Summary: Pâronoun.The feeling that no matter what you do, it is always somehow wrong.Angsty oneshots of your favorite characters.





	Pâro

Makoto closed the apartment door and slipped her shoes off in the entryway.

Returning home used to be a comforting routine, step one of unwinding. Today, it felt surreal, as if she were stuck in a nightmare about Mementos. Unable to sleep, unable wake up, to leave. The reaper’s chains, the threat of arrest, rattled in the distance.

“I’m home,” she called.

But the lights were off. The salad spinner was still on the kitchen counter, ingredients neatly prepared, a tomato half-chopped on the cutting board.

Sae always came home first and started dinner. Makoto could imagine the call that stopped her. Now that Joker was arrested, every law enforcer in Tokyo was on duty or ogling their prize prisoner.

Makoto knew how these things worked. Men in conference rooms were mapping his social connections like constellations. Men with guns were coming for everyone who had ever given Joker the time of day.

And those men were likely to catch every single Phantom Thief.

If Futaba was smart, she’d find a way to delete the chat logs ASAP. But that wouldn’t be enough.

In the next few hours, two detectives would enter Leblanc with warrants for the attic and Sojiro’s home. Futaba would scream and kick like a feral animal until they handcuffed her. An undercover policeman would strike up a conversation with Ryuji until he incriminated himself. He would likely drag Ann and Yusuke down with him. Hifumi would take longer to catch, but no amount of connections could save her.

And somewhere in this harvest- it would only take a mumble from Ryuji, a diary or calendar entry, a single hair dropped in Leblanc- somewhere in this storm would be undeniable evidence that Makoto was one of them.

Her heart thrummed, slowly but harder than was comfortable. She swallowed. Her spit crackled down her throat and echoed in the dark apartment. This would be her last day of freedom.

She’d never wasted time before. Time was precious. Makoto glanced around the kitchen for a chore. Dishes lay unwashed from the night prior. She closed her eyes and cringed at the pain. She’d forgotten. And Sae had no doubt sighed in frustration at the sight. How petty that pile of dishes would seem next to the mountain of problems she’d caused her older sister. So she pulled the salad spinner into her embrace and picked up where Sae had left off. One last dinner together would be an hour well spent.

The work was monotonous. Seconds felt precious, but she tempered her motions and held panic at bay. The meal came together as it had for the last few years, and Makoto set the table with the same patience and practice.

This carried on until evening, when she lit the candle at the table’s center, then flattened her skirt and sat.

The front door clattered as a key tumbled the lock. Makoto felt every hair stand on end.

The door opened, and Sae entered quietly. No “Sorry I’m late” nor “How was school?”

Makoto only recognized her by the sound of her heels. Sae slipped them off and dropped them onto the shelf. The door closed, and Sae stood in the entryway, out of sight, silent and terrifying. Makoto checked the table again, and straightened her silverware with a trembling hand. Sae sighed, and finally entered.

Makoto prepared a greeting, even parted her lips and smiled, but Sae swept past her without acknowledgement and power-walked to the kitchen. The waist-high wall separating them felt as impenetrable as jail bars.

Sae’s gaze did linger on the sink, now empty, but her arms found the spirit cabinet and poured wine into a glass.

Presented only with Sae’s back, Makoto still saw her sister’s tension. Shoulders high and tight. Shallow, rigid breaths.

Sae threw back the wine like a shot, then poured another glass. She only stared at this one, and planted her arms on the counter.

Makoto took a deep breath, to steady her voice, and asked, “Hey, Sis?”

Sae didn’t answer.

Makoto pressed, “Will you come sit at the table? It’s… It’s the only time we get to talk to each other.”

Sae thought about it, then swept up her drink and walked around the kitchen separator. She jerked out her chair and fell into it with a haughty thump, legs and arms crossing as her gaze finally met Makoto’s. Still, she did not speak.

Makoto kept her hands folded in her lap. She overlapped them, to hide the trembling. Afraid of the prosecutor’s gaze, she looked to her side and asked, “So… How was your day, sis?”

Sae looked at her like a stranger. Yusuke would envy this perspective: The ideal form of a prosecutor. Then Sae blinked, and glanced down at the food on the table. She looked at Makoto again. “I’m sure you’ve heard. We arrested the leader of the Phantom Thieves. And we’ll have the rest by the end of the day.”

Makoto was thirsty, but if she lifted her glass, the water would betray her fear. She smoothed her breathing and answered, “Oh. That explains why they kept you so late.”

“I’m still working,” Sae corrected.

Her stare, its directness, could be interpreted as intense thought. Maybe she was kilometers away in her mind, and farther still from catching Makoto. But this was wishful thinking.

Makoto picked up her fork and knife. “Do you… Have time for dinner?”

Sae considered, still staring. Her jaw flexed slightly, chewing inside her cheek. Her lips parted to answer, and Makoto interrupted, “With me?”

Sae relaxed her shoulders and looked at the meal. She unfolded her arms, and rested a hand on her own silverware. Her shoulders even seemed to relax. But instead of eating, she licked her lips and answered, “I know we don’t get to talk often, Makoto. Right now… We do. So… Is there anything that you would like to tell me?”

Makoto tried to talk. She was too afraid. She couldn’t decide between feeling guilt or self-righteous anger.

She didn’t want to feel guilty. Being a Phantom Thief wasn’t wrong. She’d done the right thing for the world. Or at least for Japan; Maybe just Tokyo; Just a small corner of the big city, actually. But she’d helped many people.

Her heart weighed that Good against the end of her days with Sae.

Sae scoffed. “I can’t believe you, Makoto. I am really… At a loss for words right now.”

Makoto set down her fork and knife, and returned her hands to her lap.

Johana whispered in her mind, “Stay quiet. She’s a prosecutor. She hasn’t given you any information yet, so you don’t owe any to her.”

Sae covered her own mouth, as if holding back angry words. The hand shifted to her cheek, and she looked away. Then, with shame, she admitted, “I should have noticed when your exam scores started slipping. Your attendance isn’t perfect anymore, you sleep longer, and you’ve been coming home later and later. Especially on… Rainy days.”

Sae looked her in the eye again, and apologized, “I should have taken note of that. I could have helped you, Makoto. If you had come to me.”

Sae’s anger finally emerged as a snort. She stopped herself, licked foul words off her lips. Then her pursed lips exploded into a snarl. “When did you first meet Akira?”

She knew. Makoto felt the artery thumping in her slender neck. She reached for her water and brought it to her lips quickly.

Sae leaned back into her chair and folded her arms again, resuming the role of interrogator.

But what exactly did she know?

Cell phone data would tell her where they all hung out together. When they had each joined. Not what they were doing.

Makoto lowered her glass and tried to place it gently. The question tumbled around her mind, and she tried to limit the truth in her mind.

When did she first meet Akira? “W-When the principle… When Principle Kobayakawa assigned me to investigate a… There were gangsters extorting students, and-“

“Kaneshiro,” Sae summarized.

Makoto nodded. “I was kidnapped in Shibuya, and… Akira and his friends saved me.”

Sae raised an eyebrow.

Makoto stammered “I didn’t want you to… Kaneshiro took pictures of me… Before I escaped… And I had to be quiet or… I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

This was all, technically, true. But as Sae noted, “You’re not being entirely forthcoming with me, Makoto.”

Makoto shivered. “I-I don’t entirely understand my position right now, Sis. Is this… Is this an interrogation?”

Sae thought about her answer, and stared the whole while as if she wouldn’t. “Yes,” she finally admitted.

Makoto fidgeted in her chair. “Shouldn’t I have… Someone on my side?”

Sae thought about it again, then lowered her eyes and nodded. “I had hoped, since we’re sisters, that you would just tell me the truth. You want a defense attorney?”

“I want you, Sis. I want you on my side.”

“I want to be on your side, Makoto.”

Makoto gestured to the meal. “Then… Should we eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Makoto nodded. She didn’t like watching Sae accuse her of things. So she shifted the topic to, “How is Akira? I know his situation is difficult, since he’s on parole. He-“

Sae shook her head. “He’s not on parole anymore, Makoto.”

Sae took a deep breath, then held her arms out. Still shaking her head, she asked, “Why did you fall in with someone like that? You know better than to associate with violent criminals. Dad raised you better than this. I raised you better than this.”

Johana answered before Makoto could suppress her anger. She snapped, “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Oh?”

“There was a man attacking a woman late at night, and Akira tried to help her.”

Sae dismissed that with a hand wave. “He attacked the head of a political party and his secretary. They both had injuries, Makoto, and they both told the police that your friend Akira attacked them.”

“I know- But- He said-“

Sae scowled, “And you believed him.”

She had. She still did. For almost a whole year now, she had taken as truth every word that passed over Joker’s silver tongue. But what a stupid lie to believe. She saw in her sister’s face how incredibly foolish she had been. A little girl swept off her feet by words alone.

“So he rescued you from Kaneshiro,” Sae continued, “And told you his version of the assault. You kept making company with him. Why?”

Makoto wrung her hands and tried to still her trembling lips. This wasn’t the happy last hour she imagined. Sae knew. She wanted a confession of guilt. But Makoto didn’t feel guilty. She only felt trapped- just as she had before the Phantom Thieves, her only friends- freed her.

“He was… A very good conversational partner. He was very knowledgeable about-”

Sae chuckled, “Knowledgeable. Please, Makoto. He was Charming.”

“Well, he was Kind,” Makoto snapped.

Sae tilted her head in agitation, and snapped back, “And you aren’t the only girl he charmed.”

Makoto sniffed back tears. “W-what do you mean?”

Sae contained her snarl by great effort. “Were you and Akira just friends? Nothing more?”

If only that had been forgotten. Makoto’s eyes felt wet. She brushed moisture from her lids.

Sae pressed, “Is this the boy you were crying about on Valentine’s Day?”

Makoto nodded, reliving the embarrassment. “Y-yeah. He… That was a misunderstanding.”

Sae wore a patronizing smile, “Oh. A misunder-“

“Sis, will you just listen?! It wasn’t his fault. We- I mean, I pushed my expectations onto him. And so did a lot of other girls. So, we all got mixed up and thought we were dating him. But he’s a quiet guy, and he just didn’t know how to say no without hurting us.”

Sae waved her hand as if dispelling a foul smell. “Stop making excuses for him. He wasn’t dating Ann Takamaki, he was sleeping with her.”

“W-what?!”

“And another schoolmate, Miss Kasumi.”

The shock kept Makoto silence. She couldn’t tell if Sae was lying.

“The list goes on,” Sae continued. “We’ve identified a number of his liaisons. A fortune teller, an heiress to a large food chain, a recovering suicide from your school-“

“Shiho?” Makoto realized.

“Oh, yes,” Sae nodded. “He made numerous conjugal visits, ostensibly to help her recovery. He got around, Makoto. We suspect he had an ongoing relationship with an instructor at Shinjuku. He was also fornicating with his physician in exchange for illegal pharmaceuticals, romancing a reporter for propaganda pieces, and seducing a high level shogi player for…” She held up for arms, “Just for fun, I guess. A Phantom Thief of Hearts indeed.”

Makoto felt as if a stake had pierced her chest. As if each name added weight until the point drove through her heart. She couldn’t breathe.

Sae finally allowed concern to show across her brow. “Makoto… Please… Tell me you didn’t-”

Makoto lowered her eyes and sobbed.

The stories she’d dreamed about Queen and Joker, once clear and happy, seemed now like mistaken impressions from a fever. Makoto closed her mouth and bit back tears. She saw clearly in her mind: Joker spinning a Tarot card on his finger, smiling as The Fool twirled and danced for his amusement.

What seemed a second ago like a given, like a marriage, was now a lapse in judgement that needed excusing.

Sae pointed at the ceiling. “If dad was here, he would disown you, Makoto. And I should have a long time ago.”

“D-Don’t say that, Sis.”

Sae beat the table with her fist. “All! You had! TO DO! Was focus on school! I have worked day in and day out for you! Ever since dad died, you have lived by my grace! I put you through school, I helped you study, I kept us clothed and fed, and I did all of that ALONE! I did it for you, Mako-”

Makoto shook with rage, her righteous anger finally asserting itself. She remembered her pact with Johana, the feeling of victory over shitty adults. Johana rose in her chest like bile and shrieked, “You did it for yourself, Sae!”

“What did you say to me?”

“You want to be the director of SIU! And you’ll chase that promotion no matter what else it costs you! So don’t complain to me that we drifted apart!”

Sae seized her water glass and tossed the contents in Makoto’s face.

“How dare you speak to me like that!”

Makoto recoiled in shock, injured.

Sae’s face scrunched around her nose in fury. “Do not take that attitude with me, Makoto! Not after what you’ve done!”

Makoto’s heart felt like a little bird beating against its cage.

Sae was wet under the eyes as well. She hissed, “Makoto… You…” She closed her eyes, to focus. “Your friend, Futaba… Has a copy of my laptop’s hard drive. And I have been told… We know for certain that it was copied by a flash drive.”

The rest of her accusation, she enunciated, syllable by syllable. “Someone had physical access to my laptop.”

Makoto’s heart stopped. She didn’t have any right to feel angry, nor righteous. Only shame was appropriate here. But all emotion was overwhelmed.

She didn’t feel anything.

Sae asked, “Makoto?”

“S-Sis?”

“Did you…” Sae closed her eyes. “Did you ever put anything into a USB port on my laptop?”

Makoto didn’t want to answer. She shook, and water dripped from her face. “Sis, I’m sorry.”

Sae nodded that she understood. She took a deep breath, and then she raised her hand, as if swearing an oath, and ordered, “Bring your face here, Makoto.”

Makoto looked at her elder’s open palm and realized what she meant.

“Sis, please-”She jerked back, and her chair tilted onto its hind legs and thudded against the wall.

Sae stood from her chair and leaned over the table, clearing the distance and shouting, “Don’t run from me, Makoto! Bring your face here!”

She tried to strike, but Makoto shielded herself with her arms. “Sis, please! PLEASE! You can’t-”

Sae flushed red and pulled her dimples back in a growl. “Put. Your hand. Down. Makoto!”

Makoto sobbed. “Sis, please, I-“

“Put your hand down!”

“I don’t want to be enemies, Sae! I don’t want to fight you.”

Sae sucked air through her nostrils hard, but was listening.

Makoto cried, “I don’t want anything to pull us apart, Sis. Nothing. So… I know… I know I have so much to be sorry about, but… I want us to go through this and then be past it. You’re my sister, Sae. We’re family, and we have to stick together. So…”

Makoto lowered her hands slowly, crying and shaking, until she was just a little girl again, all personas stripped away. She closed her eyes, and as she presented her cheek, every muscle on her face twitched in fear.

Sae waited a beat, to test her sincerity, then struck her across the cheekbone with a loud CRACK.

Makoto’s head turned under the force. First she understood it had happened- the sound connecting in her mind with the force and dizziness- then she understood its meaning. The finality of the rejection. After this understanding, the pain bloomed on her cheek: first warm, like a sunburn; then sharp, like a cut.

“You… You hit me,” she whispered. “You’ve never hit me before.”

“That is what you’ve done to me, Makoto! After all my hard work, you slapped me across the face! The Phantom Thieves have mocked law enforcement in this country- Mocked ME! And now I find out that I am betrayed by my own SISTER!”

Sae caught her breath.

Makoto touched a finger to her wound, then flinched.

“Give me your other cheek,” Sae ordered.

“But, sis-“

“-Don’t ‘Sis’ me, you idiot!”

Makoto resigned herself to this new treatment. She leaned forward until the chair knocked onto all four legs. Slowly, she turned her virgin cheek towards the pain, water dripping from her trembling lips.

Sae lifted her hand.

Makoto watched her with pleading eyes. She whispered, “Mercy. Please.”

Sae drew back her palm to strike. A knock at the door stopped her, loud and authoritative.

From the hallway, an officer announced, “Nijima-San. Time’s up.”

She’d brought them, Makoto realized. They’d been waiting, there and probably outside her bedroom window, too.

Makoto was going to prison. And they knew everything.

Sae lowered her hand, and then turned away from her. “Your friend Akira,” She explained, “Your friend Joker, wanted to get under my skin. So he sold you out. On everything. I can’t help you anymore, Makoto. I would lose my job and you would still go to prison. You want my advice? Plead Guilty. Confess to everything.”

Makoto stood from her chair on shaking legs. “I wish you would look at me, Sae."

“I can’t.”

Makoto wrapped her arms around her sister, and buried her face in her suit jacket. She wanted to hide here and cry until Sae sang her to sleep

But the prosecutor grabbed her wrists and pried her loose, still refusing to stand face-to face.

She ordered, “Answer the door, Makoto. And… Goodbye.”


End file.
